


The Christmas Party

by Ailelie, Cinaed



Series: Enduring Legends [14]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Gen, Male Friendship, No season 4 spoilers, Party, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Arthur forces Ambrose to wear a tie and forms a truce with his cousin, Anna.</p><p>Gen with mention of various f/m and f/f off-screen relationships.</p><p><em>Saturday, December 10 2011</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas Party

_Saturday, December 10 2011_

You'd never guess how poor off the economy was looking around the house, Arthur thought, glimpsing an elaborate ball of mistletoe hanging in the center of the former dining hall, now ballroom. Garlands and sprays of pine branches made the room look like a winter glade. His father had paid for a hardwood floor to be laid down for the night and a quartet was setting up music stands in one corner. It was unnecessarily extravagant, even if they could afford it.

"Excuse me," Arthur said, slipping into the room to avoid yet another conversation with his father about how to mix with the guests. The musicians ignored him, which was just as well. He crossed the room to the door by the kitchens. The chef just shook her head at him, but then gestured toward the table outside her office. Arthur grinned at the small plate of mixed treats and the glass of wine beside it.

"Thanks," he said.

"Just get out of our way," the chef responded, pointing with her spoon toward the door. Arthur scooped up his gifts and checked out the door leading into the hall. It looked clear. He left, hurried down the hall and turned the corner to the game room. Few looked up when he entered. The game room was, by common and unspoken agreement, a room free from the obligation of socializing. One door opened to the hall just outside the smaller of the two main rooms. The other opened to the hall along the ballroom, leading down to the kitchens.

Arthur looked around the room, spotting Ambrose fidgeting by the fireplace. He grinned; Ambrose looked as miserable as Arthur felt. "Stop messing with your tie."

Ambrose looked up at him with a murderous expression. "I hate ties."

"This is a fancy party, Ambrose. You have to wear a tie."

Ambrose stole one of the small cakes off the treat plate. "I hate fancy parties."

"I bet the other admins would love to be here," Arthur said, placing the plate on an endtable.

Ambrose snorted. "Hardly. They're having a bar and bowling night."

"I hope they're doing the bowling first."

"I doubt it. Apparently bowling is double the fun when you're drunk."

"Apparently?" Arthur tried to imagine some of the admins he'd seen around the office stumbling around with bowling balls.

"I was one of the DDs last year," Ambrose explained.

"It's a wonder they're not all in the emergency room."

Ambrose missed the dig at his driving abilities, however. "Well…" he said, "Do you remember Leo's broken foot last year?"

Arthur thought back and recalled signing a cast after the holidays. "That's why he skipped the party? I thought he was sick."

"Nope. Wrangled an invite with the admins, and got a bowling ball for his trouble." Ambrose reached for the wine glass. Arthur moved it aside, earning a glare. He raised his brows in challenge. Ambrose got a shrewd look on his face. "You know-- Gwen sometimes works in the emergency room."

"Ambrose," Arthur started, a warning in his tone.

Ambrose just smiled unconcernedly, and reached again for the glass. "Maybe Leo knows her, too."

Arthur held the wine over his head. "I think you all are just making her up."

"Why would we do that?"

"To mess with me." Arthur lowered the wine, and then drank it all at once. The spice burned down his chest, making him cough. Ambrose rolled his eyes and pounded a couple times on Arthur's back.

"Hate to break it to you, Arthur, but you're not that important."

Arthur pulled away, still rubbing his chest. "Then, please explain to me how is it possible that you, Gavin, Elle, Adam, David, and Shea all know her, but I don't?"

"Don't forget Leo."

"I'm not adding him on a hypothetical."

"I'll ask him then." Ambrose started walking toward the main room.

"No." Arthur grabbed his arm. "You're staying here."

Ambrose shook loose of his grasp and crossed his arms. "Admit it then."

"Admit what?"

"The only reason you made me come here tonight is because you'd get lonely otherwise."

"Get lonely?" Arthur sputtered. "I invited you, Ambrose, because I thought you could use a little culture in your life."

"In that case—" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder "—I'll go mingle. Get cultured."

"Don't you dare." Ambrose raised his brows. Arthur sighed, defeated. "Fine. I didn't want to suffer alone."

Ambrose leaned back on the wall beside him. "I should get a bonus for putting up with you."

"Excuse me?"

"Please." Ambrose flapped one hand at him. "You know you're high maintenance."

"High-- you know what, Ambrose? You're right. I shouldn't deprive you of the opportunity to talk with our honored guests. Go. 'Mingle.'" He pushed Ambrose sideways until he stumbled toward the fireplace.

He took a step back toward the door, but then stopped. "I don't know."

"You're the one who said you didn't want to be stuck with me all night."

"I never said that, unless you're hearing things." Ambrose paused, his smile slipping off his face leaving something hard and searching. "Are you hearing things?"

Arthur resisted the urge to push back into the wall. "What? No. No, of course not. Look, I'll be fine."

Ambrose stared a second longer, then looked away. "You know, I almost miss Vivian." Arthur snorted. "You didn't make me wear ties when you were dating her."

"Go, Ambrose." Arthur waved him toward the door

"Fine, fine. I'm going. I'll have my cell if you need me." Ambrose stopped and turned again. "Are you sure you'll be fine alone?" His voice dripped with false concern.

"Go."

He grinned, all feints at care evaporating. "I'll ask Leo about Gwen for you."

"You mean you'll get Leo in on your little scheme."

"Whatever makes you feel better." He left with a cheeky grin. Arthur rolled his eyes. Then, turning away from the door Ambrose had left through, he got out his phone. He used his body to shield it so that no one in the other room, in particular his father, could see that he'd rather destroy zombies than be sociable.

"Arthur?" Arthur shoved his phone away and straightened as he turned. His cousin Anna had deigned to join the party.

"Anna."

"How nice to see you, again. Still bankrupting America's schools to line your own pockets?" Anna sidled up beside him, her back to the unlit fireplace.

Arthur forced a polite smile. "Oh, Anna, what a pleasure. Still making excuses for a broken system?"

Anna's smile was equally false. "You're too kind. Did you bring Vivian with you this evening? She is such a treat."

"Unfortunately, Viv and I are on the outs again."

"Pity."

"How about you? Anyone special?"

"If I had, do you honestly believe I'd be here?" She gestured at the room.

"The party isn't that bad."

"No, but the company could use improvement." Arthur followed her gaze to the doorway leading to the main room. He couldn't really disagree. His father used holidays as business opportunities, a chance to network, gain investors, and solidify supporters. Very few people in attendance weren't working an angle or hoping to gain something.

Arthur tried to think of a more pleasing topic for Anna. "How's your sister? You could have brought her."

"Right. Your father would have been so pleased."

"He isn't right on everything." Arthur looked forward to the day he'd be able to take over the company and change some of his father's intolerable policies.

Anna laughed. "And, lo, the marionette proves he is a real boy after all."

"I am not my father's puppet," he snapped back, stung.

"Of course not," Anna mocked. "I'm certain you have all sorts of ideas and thoughts of your own."

"Enough. How is your sister anyway? Are she and her girlfriend still together?" Arthur lowered his voice just in case anyone was listening in.

Anna pushed away from the wall, turning her back to him. "Don't pretend to care, Arthur. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not—" Arthur made a frustrated noise. He stepped around so that he was facing Anna. "Look, it's Christmas."

"I did notice the surplus of colored lights and pine trees; your point?" She actually looked at him. He could tell she was as tired and bored as he was.

"Can't we call truce?" he asked. "At least for tonight? There are enough people here I don't want to deal with already."

Anna searched his face, likely looking for his angle. Then she nodded slightly. "Fine. Truce." She stepped back, looking around the room. "Is Ambrose here? Did he bring Janet?"

"Anna." He could not believe her. They had just called truce, and she was already going to snark on Ambrose's former beard.

Anna looked at him, annoyed. "I'm not being cruel, Arthur. I genuinely like Janet. Unlike you, Ambrose chooses girls who don't make me want to stab out my own ears."

"Leave Viv out of this."

"Oh, I hope to. What did you see in her anyway?"

"I don't know. When we're together, I can't imagine being apart. When we're apart, I can't remember why we ever got together in the first place."

"I heard Ambrose blames Elle." Anna sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. The decorators had changed the pillows so that each featured a snowflake.

"You know Elle?"

"I do have friends, Arthur."

"You're not friends," he said, unsure. He and Elle had once attended gatherings like this one together, so it was feasible that Anna knew her, but Arthur thought he and Elle had stopped before Anna had returned to the city.

"No," Anna agreed. "But she did forward me some mail back in college when I had to transfer schools suddenly. Elle apparently took my place in my old apartment."

"No." He had heard that story before.

"No? What precisely is your objection?" Anna tilted her chin up at him.

"You can't know Gwen."

"Gwen Smith? Of course I know her. We were flatmates for about a year and a half. Why? Arthur, what's wrong?"

"Did Ambrose put you up to this?" Arthur asked, joining Anna on the sofa.

"Excuse me?" She twisted toward him.

Arthur sketched a circle with his hand. "This whole myth of Gwen thing."

"Just because you don't know her, Arthur, doesn't mean she isn't real."

"That's not what I—" Arthur stopped talking as every light in the room, and the one adjoining, first dimmed, and then went out. Even the candles crept down into nothing, as though a glass had been placed over each. Anna's breath caught, almost like a sob. "Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."

"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur," she replied automatically, without heat. She stood. As his eyes adjusted, he saw her move toward the mantle and the darkened candles. "Strange." She reached out to touch one of the wicks, when the lights suddenly returned. "Ouch!" Anna shook her hand. "Ow."

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked.

"It burned me," she said, her voice soft with awe.

"You should run water over it."

"Right. Of course." Anna took a step back, and turned toward the door that led toward the kitchen. As she left, she turned back to look again at the candles on the mantle. Her gaze was soft, confused, and questioning. She blew on her burned fingers and left the room.

Arthur leaned back on the sofa, his arms stretched out along the top on either side. He watched the candles flicker and tried to concoct an explanation. Sometime later, though how much later he wasn't sure, he heard his father's voice from behind him.

"Arthur, you should be talking with your guests."

"Good evening, Father," he said, standing. He motioned back toward the candles. "Did you see—"

"Are you here alone?" his father interrupted. "Didn't I tell you to invite Elle along? The board members love her."

"Elle and I are just friends, Father." He was really tired of explaining.

"Friends is a good place to start."

"She's dating someone else. Has been."

"What about that other girl then?" He snapped and pointed at Arthur. "Alf's daughter."

"Vivian and I aren't seeing one another at the moment."

"You still could have brought her. Appearances do matter. Never mind, if you're here alone—"

"Arthur, I found—" Ambrose skidded to a stop just inside the room. "Sir," he said, inclining his head toward his father.

"Ambrose." His father's voice was distinctly unimpressed. "I see we shall be enjoying your company once again this evening. Dancing will start in thirty minutes. Arthur, I expect you to be there."

"Of course, Father."

"You will dance with Commissioner Edwards' daughter."

"Yes, Father." His father glanced disdainfully at Ambrose before returning to the guests in the main room.

"Is the honorable Arthur William Penn the Eighth playing matchmaker again?" Ambrose asked. His tone was teasing, but something about him seemed off. Arthur didn't feel like deciphering what, however. Ambrose had been acting 'off' since his birthday.

"Shut up, Ambrose." Arthur rubbed at the space between his eyes.

"I found Leo."

"So?"

"Not only does he know Gwen," Ambrose said, pointing at him, "but he knew Gwen's mum from back before Gwen was even born. They used to live in the same town, before he got married and moved to the city."

"Fantastic." He was tired of hearing about this mystery girl everyone else, except him knew.

"So you believe me now?"

"Anna convinced me."

"Anna knows Gwen?" Ambrose sounded surprised, though Arthur wasn't. Meeting people individually so that no one realized their mutual connections seemed to be this Gwen's super power

"Apparently they were roommates."

"Small world."

"You're telling me. I'm starting to suspect that, if she isn't a hoax, then I'm simply the last person in the world to meet her. So what's she like?"

"Huh?" Ambrose asked, seemingly startled. His face was pale. Arthur wondered if he should say anything.

"Gwen. If she isn't a myth, then you must be able to describe her."

Ambrose shrugged. "She's Gwen. Sweet, efficient, scarily driven. Oh! And she can hook you up with some of the best cookies ever made."

This sounded familiar. "Wait, when you brought those huge snickerdoodles to work and wouldn't let me have one--"

"You stole one anyway."

Arthur pinched his nose, wondering if Ambrose ever let anything go. "You didn't need all three. Didn't you learn how to share while growing up?"

"I was going to save it for the next day."

"It'd have been no good by then. At least this way it didn't go to waste. But," Arthur raised one hand, forestalling the response he knew Ambrose would give. "Back to topic. Gwen made those?"

"She brought them, yeah, but she didn't make them. Her best friend's mom sends them to her regular, and always more than Gwen can eat."

"I have got to meet this Gwen."

"You just want her cookies," Ambrose said with a sly smile.

"Well, yeah. Come on." He motioned toward the main rooms. "We should head to the dance floor."

"We?" Ambrose asked, pointing between them.

"You didn't think I was going to make a fool of myself alone out there, did you? I'm sure the Commissioner's daughter has friends."

Ambrose groaned. "I hate dancing."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, Ambrose," he commanded.

"Yes, Si—" Ambrose froze. Arthur looked back at him quizzically.

"Ambrose?"

Ambrose blinked, then stumbled sideways, reaching for the back of the sofa. "I'm fine. Fine. Really. So dancing?" His face was no longer pale, but white and looked damp.

Arthur frowned. "I think you should sit down. I'll get Leo to look after you."

"I don't need a babysitter," he protested.

"Sit down, Ambrose." Arthur took his arm and pulled him around the sofa. Ambrose fell back onto the cushions with a sigh. Arthur looked around and tried to spot Leo's red-gold curls. Leo usually lingered in or near the game room.

"He's with Kayley." Ambrose leaned his head back against the sofa, his eyes closed. "In the playroom."

Arthur nodded. He made his way through the sundry guests with nods and brief smiles. "Excuse me. I'm sorry." Several people caught on his sleeve, asking him his opinions about the common core or about the teachers at the branch in New York who had unionized. Arthur muttered practiced soundbites and slipped past them as quickly as he could. When he reached the hall, he paused and caught his breath before continuing to the playroom. The door was closed, but he could still hear loud laughter from inside. Arthur opened the door. Leo was on his hands and knees with one child on his back and two more standing around, jumping and clapping. Kayley was standing with them. She kept telling Leo to 'do the bronco, Daddy.' In another corner, a woman was watching three other children play what appeared to be cops v. a fireman, with babies.

Then one boy saw him. "Mr. Knight, there's a grown up here."

"Excuse me, Leo," Arthur said, "but I need you."

Leo slid down to his stomach with a groan. "All right. Your turn's over, Geoffrey. Keep an eye on these two, Kayley."

"Okay, Daddy." Leo messed her dark curls as he stood and turned to Arthur.

"What's wrong?"

"Ambrose is sick. He's on the couch in the game room. I don't know what's wrong."

"I'll look after him. You should get back to the party. Don't want your father to think you're playing hooky."

"Thank you."

"It's no problem."

"At least get him into one of the guest rooms."

Leo took Arthur by his shoulders and gently turned him around. "I know how to do my job, Arthur. Don't worry." He pushed him out the door, following behind. "Dancing should be starting soon."

"Yes, damn it. I can hear the music starting up. Father wants me to dance with the commissioner's daughter."

"Ria Edwards?" Leo asked. "I heard she's very pretty."

"I don't care if she's Helen of Troy," Arthur said. "I just got out of a relationship."

Leo squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe you just need to find the right girl."

"You sound like my father."

"Or guy," Leo added.

"And now you sound like Gavin."

"Get back to your party, Arthur. I'll take care of your friend."

"Right. Okay." Arthur took a deep, steeling breath, and then once again joined the crowd of guests.

**Author's Note:**

> This section (which took longer to finish than expected) was written by Ailelie.


End file.
